A Ton of Balls
by slackerD
Summary: Carly is worried that she and Sam aren't spending enough time together.


**Title:** A Ton of Balls  
><strong>Author:<strong> slacker_d  
><strong>PairingCharacters:** Carly/Sam, Freddie, Spencer, Gibby, OC  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Carly is worried that she and Sam aren't spending enough time together.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Not mine.  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> ~3,750  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> general show spoilers through 5x07

Watching half a dozen dairy cows wander the halls of Ridgeway, Carly looks around for her girlfriend. There's not a question in anyone's mind that the culprit wasn't Sam. She knows it, Freddie knows it, Principal Franklin knows it; so sometimes, Sam will hide out in hopes of avoiding punishment.

Which Carly doesn't understand. Principal Franklin is extremely fair. If he doesn't have proof and Sam doesn't admit it, he won't punish her.

"I'm surprised Sam didn't keep one of the cows to eat," Freddie says, leaning against the middle locker as Carly puts her books into hers.

"They're dairy cows, Freddie."

"Like that matters to Sam."

"Oh god, you don't think she's somewhere eating one of the cows?" Carly asks.

Freddie just raises an eyebrow at her.

"You're right. Of course she is."

"As long as she remembers to cook it, everything'll be fine," Freddie assures.

**…**

Carly spends two periods, unsuccessfully searching for Sam. She finally ends up calling her.

"What up, Cupcake?"

"Sam," Carly replies. "Where are you?"

"Your place."

"Why?" Carly asks. "What are you doing?"

"Eating a turkey leg."

"Again, why?"

"Because when I picked up the cows, the guy gave me a turkey for free," Sam explains. "So after I set Bessie and her friends free, I came back here to eat my prize."

"You can eat at school," Carly replies. "I've seen you."

"Carls, I know I make my marathon eating look easy, but it's not," Sam says. "Doing it at school just means I'm going to get interrupted."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It'll be teachers expecting me to take a quiz or a janitor kicking me out of the teachers' lounge so he can clean it. A girl can't eat her turkey leg in peace."

Carly doesn't know what to say to that. "Oh."

"It's just better for everyone involved if I just plant myself on your couch to enjoy Thomas Turkey."

"You named him?"

"Not really. It just came to me," Sam replies.

"Are you coming back?"

"Doubtful," Sam answers. "This could take a while. No worries, kid, I'll see you when you get home."

"No you won't," Carly tells her. "You have therapy with your mom this afternoon, remember?"

"Oh yeah. Is it Thursday already?"

"It's Tuesday," Carly replies. "You have therapy on Tuesdays _and_Thursdays."

"Right. What would I do without you, Carls?"

"Flunk out of high school and miss therapy."

"Smart girls are so hot."

"Flattery won't work this time."

"I'll be in school tomorrow, I swear," Sam says.

"You better be."

**…**

Sam is in school Wednesday, though Carly never sees her. Freddie says she was in History with him in the morning, but when Carly slides into her seat in last period English, she hasn't caught sight of her girlfriend once. She stares at Sam's seat until the bell rings, but it remains empty.

Carly finally runs into Sam at the end of the day when she goes to her locker.

"Where have you been all day?"

"At school, just like I said," Sam replies.

"Just because you're in the building…"

"Things come up," Sam says. "You'd be surprised really how-"

"Why weren't you in English?"

"I don't see the point," Sam replies. "I already know English, so what's the point?"

"Now you're being deliberately obtuse?"

"You know just because you got 713 on your SAT verbal, doesn't mean you need to show off your vocab all the time."

"_Sam_!"

"What?"

"Hey girls, what's up?" Freddie greets them.

"Carly's mad at me," Sam informs him.

"Why?"

"That's a good question," Sam says. She turns to Carly. "What did I do now?"

"I'm not mad," Carly replies. "I just… I thought we were going to eat lunch together."

"I know," Sam tells her. "But Wesley and I ended up surfing down the East wing stairs on lunch trays. I texted my apologies."

"_That's_the urge thing you had to do?" Carly asks.

"He said he was better at it than me. Can't have that."

Carly just slams her locker shut and walks away.

**…**

When Carly opens the door to her apartment, she finds Spencer making a sculpture out of bendy straws.

"You like?" he asks. "I'm calling it Drink-A-Licious."

"You've just made a bunch of cubes out of straws," Carly points out. "It's more like a geometry project."

"I'm not finished," Spencer insists. "I have to connect them all. Plus, I'm making like a hundred, so the sheer _moreness_of it all will make it awesome."

"Uh huh." Carly slumps into the kitchen and pulls a pudding cup out of the fridge.

"Why so down, kiddo?"

"Sam."

"Ah, did she forget your birthday or something?"

"Spencer, my birthday was two months ago."

"Oh right." Spencer joins Carly at the table. "So what's wrong?"

"I never see her anymore."

"What about school?" Spencer asks.

"It doesn't matter if she doesn't show up to class or blows me off at lunch to go tray surf in the East wing."

"Oh, I used to love doing that," Spencer interrupts. "I held the record for distance until Sam broke it two years ago."

"_Spencer_."

"What? She did."

"You're not helping," Carly points out.

"Am I supposed to be helping?"

"Apparently not," Carly replies, sullenly, pouting into her pudding cup.

"Right. Listen, as your big brother, let me give you some relationship advice."

"Spencer, I love you, but I've had group projects that last longer than your relationships."

"Hey, that's not true, what about Stephanie?"

"Really? You're defending yourself with the girlfriend you hit with a car?"

"Either way," Spencer says. "I've learned that what helps is trying to be more involved in each other's activities. You and Sam, besides iCarly, don't really share a lot of the same interests."

"That's not a bad idea," Carly admits. She lets her mind wander to the possibilities. "And I know exactly what it should be. Thanks Spence." She jumps up and runs to her room.

"You're welcome," Spencer calls after her. He stands and grabs some more straws. "And now to finish Drink-A-Licious."

**…**

Carly barely sees Sam at school on Thursday, but she's distracted enough by her plan that it only bothers her slightly.

**…**

"I don't see what the big deal is," Freddie says at lunch.

"Because I enjoy spending time with my girlfriend," Carly retorts.

"Yeah. Duh. But you've never felt the need to before," Freddie points out.

"Well, no," Carly agrees. "But that's because I got to see Sam all the time."

"Sam is over plenty," Freddie says. "I should know. Cause I'm over plenty."

"Yeah," Carly replies. "I know."

"Don't be like that," Freddie tells her. "I always leave when asked."

"You mean when Sam threatens to give you a Royal Fizzbin?"

"Exactly."

"Still better than the butter sock," Gibby adds.

Freddie and Carly turn to look at him.

"Serious," Gibby continues. "She used it on me once and it was enough to put me off butter. All yellow foods really. Now when my grandfather offers me a lemon drop, I have to say no and then he yells at me for being ungrateful."

"So you have a plan, huh?" Freddie asks, turning back to Carly.

**…**

Thursday afternoon, Carly is thankful to find Spencer at home, watching TV.

"Spencer I need your help."

"It better not be with homework," Spencer replies, eyes still on the TV. "You remember what happened when I tried to help you with your Algebra last year? I still have nightmares."

"Trust me, I remember."

"So what's up?"

"I know how I can spend more time with Sam, but I kinda need your help."

"Sure."

"Does Socko still hang out with that guy from ?" Carly asks Spencer.

"Damian? Yeah. Why?"

"I need 50,000 ball pit balls."

"Uh, that's a lot of balls."

"I know," Carly agrees. "So you can understand why I need your help."

"I'll call Socko."

**…**

They end up at a sketchy looking warehouse and Carly kind of wishes she had Sam with her instead of Spencer. Though she'd never admit it, Carly would welcome Sam's butter sock at the moment. It isn't helping that Spencer looks more nervous than Carly feels.

"You must be Spencer and Carly."

Carly turns to find a tall Asian guy, in a suit, gray shirt, but no tie, standing behind them. He looks to be about the same age as Spencer.

"Damian. Socko said you guys would be stopping by today."

"Yeah," Spencer says. "Thanks for seeing us."

"Of course," Damian replies. "What can I do for you?"

"Uh, Socko said you run ," Carly says.

"I do."

"Well, I really need some ball pit balls. Like a lot of them. And preferably as soon as possible."

"How many is a lot?"

"50,000."

"That is a lot," Damian agrees.

"So can you help us?"

"Why do you need so many?" Damian asks. "And so quickly?"

"It's a surprise for my girlfriend," Carly explains.

"Sam?" Damian questions.

"Yeah. How'd you know?"

"My little sister and I watch your show all the time."

"Oh. Wow. Really?"

Damian nods. "That's the reason I agreed to meet with you guys. I was hoping I could get an autograph."

"Of course," Carly says. "But back to the ball pit balls."

"I could probably swing it by Saturday," Damian replies. "However, even at cost, that's still a chunk of change."

"I know," Carly agrees. "And I was maybe hoping we could work out some sort of payment plan or something."

"Are you guys in a hurry?" Damian asks. "You mind waiting a moment while I crunch some numbers? We have a lovely employee lounge with Highlights magazines from the 1990s."

"Um, sure, we can wait," Carly says.

"Great." Damian turns and points to a metal spiral staircase in the corner. "If you just head up those steps, you'll find it. Give me a few and I'll come find you."

"All right," Carly says. "Thanks." She begins walking towards the stairs and Spencer falls in line behind her.

**…**

When Damian appears twenty minutes later, they're attempting to play Chess. It's rather unsuccessful since neither knows how to properly play. Carly only knows that the Queen can do whatever it wants and that the Bishops move diagonally, while Spencer only remembers that the horses are called Knights. It also doesn't help that they're missing pieces, but neither knows enough about Chess to realize this.

"So you're in luck," Damian announces as he enters the room. He takes in their odd little Chess game, before shrugging and sitting next to Spencer. "I can have 50,000 balls delivered to your house by Saturday afternoon."

"Seriously?"

Damian nods.

"That's amazing," Carly exclaims, jumping up. "But wait. How much?"

"Well, here's where it gets tricky," Damian says. "Even at cost, it's $3,000."

"Oh."

"Which I'm assuming you don't have," Damian continues. "So I figure we can work out a deal."

"Like what?"

"Endorsements. You recommend me on three separate shows, one for each thousand _and_you let me and my sister Martha see the show live once and they're yours."

"Seriously?"

"Yep."

"But that's like hardly anything," Carly protests. "I mean, of course we'll say great things about you on the show, but are you sure that's all?"

"Are you kidding?" Damian asks. "Do you know how much business I'll get from you guys mentioning me? You do know how many people watch your show, right? Even if only half a percent of your viewership gives me their business, that's still 5,000 customers."

"Yeah, that's true," Carly agrees.

Damian offers his hand. "So, do we have a deal?"

Carly stands and shakes Damian's hand. "Deal."

**…**

Friday night after iCarly is the first significant amount of time Carly gets to spend with Sam all week. She relishes it. All they do is lounge on her bed, watching her insanely large TV, but at least Sam keeps any leftover food floating on the coffee table than in her bed.

**…**

It only takes promising a couple pounds of bacon for lunch to convince Sam to cancel hanging out with Wendy Saturday afternoon.

"What were you even going to do with _Wendy_?" Carly asks, trying not to sound jealous.

"Tagging cars or something," Sam mumbles into her pillow. "I don't remember."

"Okay."

"What does it matter?" Sam turns on her side. "I'm hanging with my girl. Even better."

"Yeah?"

"Oh yeah."

**…**

After Sam's consumed the first pound of bacon, Carly feels it's safe to try and talk.

"Sam?"

"Yeah Carls?"

"We need to talk," Carlly says.

"Yeah? 'Bout what?"

"You and me."

"Whoa," Sam says. She looks up, but doesn't put down her bacon. "Sounds serious. What'd I do?"

Carly smriks. "How do you know you did something?"

"Well, if _you_did something, you'd look all guilty, babe," Sam replies. "And instead you look all hot and determined. So that means, I did something."

"Technically," Carly replies.

"Technically?"

"Have you been avoiding me?"

"What? Course not," Sam replies.

"Cause I haven't seen you all week," Carly retorts.

"The life of Sam Puckett is a busy one, Cupcake."

"Hmph, well I found a solution to that."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It _means_I figured out a way we can spend more time together," Carly explains.

"Oh. Cool." Sam returns to her bacon. "So? Let's hear it."

"No. Tomorrow. You and me."

"So what are we supposed to do until then?" Sam asks.

"Well, when you're done with your bacon, come find me," Carly replies.

"Why's that?"

"So you can return these." Carly stands and lays her underwear on Sam's lap. "I'll be in my room." And then Carly skips up to her room.

Sam looks at the underwear on her lap and then to the bacon on her plate. Finally, she grabs three more pieces of bacon, stuffs Carly's underwear in her pocket and chases after her girlfriend.

**…**

Carly's cell phone rings a little after 4 p.m.

"Hello?"

"Carly? It's Damian."

"Oh hello."

"I just wanted to let you know that I left the truck, parked where you wanted it and a messenger is bringing the keys over."

"Excellent. Have you thought about what you want us to say about on our show?" Carly asks.

"I emailed you," Damian tells her.

"Great. I'll talk to Freddie and Sam next week when we're prepping for the show."

"And you'll let me know when Lindsey and I can see the show?"

"Of course," Carly assures him. "Though if you have preferred weeks, maybe you should let me know."

"Makes sense," Damian replies. "Well good luck with your project, Carly. It's been a pleasure doing business with you."

"You too, Damian. Thanks."

**…**

"What was that about?" Sam asks Carly once she's hung up.

"Oh, just a little fun I've got planned for tomorrow," Carly replies.

"Okay."

"That's all you have to say?"

"_Some_body wore me out, okay?"

Carly smirks. "Well that's certainly true."

**…**

"So what's the big surprise?" Sam asks when she finally crawls out of Carly's bed Sunday afternoon.

"I came up with something we can do together," Carly explains.

"You say that like there aren't already _things_ we can _do_together, Cupcake," Sam leers.

"A non-naked activity."

"That's jank."

"_Sam_, you're insatiable."

Sam shrugs. "Your fault, kid. I have a really hot girlfriend."

Carly smiles. "Well that's true. But still."

"Fine. Let's hear it."

"I got a ton of plastic ball pit balls," Carly explains. "I figure you can figure out a way to get us into Ridgeway and we can flood the halls with them."

"How many is a ton?" Sam asks.

"50,000."

"Holy shit, that's a ton of balls. How'd you pull that off?"

"I have my ways," Carly smiles.

"I didn't think it was possible, but you just got like a thousand times hotter," Sam replies.

"Aw," Carly says. "Okay. Well, good. Get dressed. I made you a bacon hamburger roll so we can eat on the go."

"What's a bacon hamburger roll?"

"It's a hamburger rolled in bacon and then wrapped up in a very large corn tortilla. Not only is it portable, but it has a much higher than usual carbohydrate to meat ratio."

"Keep this up and I'll have to marry you, babe," Sam says. "Wanna shower with me?"

"I already showered," Carly tells her.

"So?"

"Fine," Carly relents. "But only to get back at Spencer for using all the hot water up twice this week."

**…**

Two hours later, Carly is following behind Sam as she finds the best way to break into school.

"This door is usually the best," Sam explains when they stop at an emergency exit by the gym. "It's hid pretty well and the lock is easy to pick."

"_Sam_," Carly exclaims. "That's a fire exit."

"Not that door." Sam points to a smaller door next to the emergency door. "This one. No one remembers it's here."

Carly watches Sam pic the lock in fourteen seconds.

"Impressive," Carly mutters.

"I _knew_my delinquency got you all hot and bothered," Sam smirks.

They tip toe around the school and Sam can't stop snickering at the head lamp Carly is wearing.

"Oh be quiet," Carly says, eventually. "It's helpful, right?"

"You are the most adorkable girl ever, Carls," Sam replies.

Carly fights a blush as Sam grabs her hand and pulls her in for a kiss. After a few minutes, Carly pulls away and reminds Sam of their ultimate goal here.

"Oh. Yeah. Right."

They find a window in the hallway that they can pry open. So after finding a ladder in the janitor's closet, they manage to open it wide.

Outside they move the truck as close to the open window as possible. Carly starts to ask Sam where she learned to drive a semi, but figure it was probably a crazy relative and that hearing the story might scare her like the one about how Sam learned how to juggle fire.

Once the truck is in place, they run a four-inch wide PVC pipe to the window and secure it in place. They then begin scooping balls into the giant funnel Spencer made to attach to the PVC pipe.

"You think of everything," Sam says, using one of the snow shovels they brought.

"I don't know how you do stuff otherwise," Carly replies.

"Well, they're usually less elaborate," Sam tells her. "And spontaneous. That time I put a skunk in Ms. Briggs' car was because I stumbled onto it on the way to school."

"Oh."

"It's not a bad thing, Shay," Sam continues. "I'm just saying is all."

"Oh. Okay."

**…**

It takes less time than Carly planned, but more than Sam was hoping. Sam crashes in the bed of the trunk, leaving Carly to grab the pipe and attempt to drive the semi away. It takes half a dozen false starts, but Carly manages to maneuver the truck to the department store parking lot that Damian asked her to leave the truck at.

Carly calls Spencer for a ride and then spends the twenty minute wait trying to motivate Sam to stand up and leave the truck.

**…**

Sam ends up spending the night again because there's nothing Carly can offer to make her go home. So Carly lets Sam take up half her bed for the rest of the evening.

**…**

Sam is up with Carly's alarm which is a Christmas miracle. Carly can only guess what has motivated her girlfriend's early arousal.

"I need another bacon hamburger roll," Sam says. "And since you're going to make me go to school today, I might as well start off the day with a stomach full of meat."

"Well, I want to see what the school looks like as a ball pit," Carly replies.

"That'll be fun too."

"Cool."

**…**

Sam's disappointed to learn that school isn't canceled. They're just expected to maneuver through the knee high balls. Still, Carly enjoys hearing everyone's reaction and speculation. Since nothing so elaborate has ever happened, no one knows what to think.

Sam strolls around with her head held high, taking credit; though never verbally.

**…**

Carly joins Freddie and Gibby for lunch as they debate.

"I'd say it was Sam, except it took _way_too much effort and planning," Freddie says. "Those are two things Sam is against."

"I know, right," Gibby replies. "Once, she made me carry her up the stairs for her next class."

"How'd she make you?" Carly asks.

Gibby doesn't answer right away, looking down at his food. "Wackale," he mutters.

"What?"

"Blackmail."

"Oh."

"She say anything to you?" Freddie asks.

"Not exactly," Carly replies.

"Proves it," Freddie says.

"Says you, Benson."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Freddie asks Gibby.

He just shrugs.

"Hey Beautiful," Sam greets as she sits next to Carly. "Fredwad. Gibster."

"Sam."

"Satan."

"What's the going ons?"

"We're talking about the balls in the hall," Freddie says.

"Nice rhyme, dude," Gibby says.

"They're good times," Sam replies. "I might snatch a lunch tray and tray surfing them."

Freddie eyes Sam as she tries to steal Gibby's Fat Cake.

After a couple minutes, Sam can't handle it anymore. "Eyes elsewhere, Fredifer. Or you'll be seeing out your feet."

"What does that even mean?"

Sam shrugs. "Something involving me ripping out your eyes and putting them in your shoes."

"Oh," Freddie says. "Weird."

**…**

"Feeling proud of yourself, kiddo?" Sam asks as she lounges on the couch with Carly stretched out on top of her.

"I think it was pretty successful," Carly replies. "And fun."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Carly leans in for a long kiss. "I'm glad we did it."

"So what chaos do you want to create next?" Sam asks.

"I think I'll be leaving that to you from now on," Carly replies.

"Why? You did a fantastic job."

"Yeah, but the entire time, I thought my heart was going to burst out of my chest, it was beating so fast. All I could think about is getting it done faster so we could get out of there and not get caught. And then when you fell asleep and I had to drive that truck away, I almost had a panic attack."

"But you did great, babe," Sam assures her. "It all worked out."

"I know. But I don't need that kind of stress."

"All right," Sam says. "You're not going to make me join some stupid club so we have a common activity, are you?"

Carly shakes her head. "I've decided we're just going to play _a lot_of strip Checkers."

"But you guys don't have a Checkers board," Sam smirks.

"Oh well, I guess we'll have to try just the stripping, then" Carly replies.


End file.
